


ohana means family (and family means dysfunctional kids & subpar indoor plumbing)

by diydynamite (orphan_account)



Category: Camp Camp (Web Series)
Genre: Fluff, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-21
Updated: 2017-06-21
Packaged: 2018-11-17 03:43:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,749
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11267253
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/diydynamite
Summary: "I've been nothing but an asshole to you all summer. I've tried to escape eighteen times, injured you fourteen times, got you to cry at least thirty times, and you still mean it when you say you'll miss me. What the fuck's up with that? Why the hell does this camp matter so much to you, and why won't you just give up like the rest of us?"-(Or, Max finds out the real reason David loves Camp Camp so much.)





	ohana means family (and family means dysfunctional kids & subpar indoor plumbing)

**Author's Note:**

> have a shitty max & david bonding fic to celebrate season 2 of camp camp!

The afternoon is warm, and the sun beats down valiantly through the leaves, dappling the dirt with golden light, but a cool breeze rustles the leaves on the trees every so often, a reminder that summer's on its last legs. Max wonders if he'll ever miss any of this; sure, it's pretty, but so are the graphics in Skyrim: Remastered, and there's no fast travel in real life. He surveys the forest disdainfully, looking around until he notices a clearing, through which a river, run off from the lake, winds. With much difficulty, Max tramples over the dead leaves to the bank, and sure enough, there's David sat under a tree next to the river, a fishing rod in his hands and a contented look on his face, one that morphs into surprise at Max's appearance.  
"Max! Why aren't you with Gwen?"  
"I could ask the same thing!"  
"She told me I could take the afternoon off, since it's the second last day."  
"Oh. I told her I thought you might be crying and that I wanted to take pictures if you were."  
"Nonsense, I only cry on the last day of camp. Today's reserved for fishing!"  
Max rolls his eyes, and sits down in the grass next to David, who beams at him expectantly. A beat passes in silence, and suddenly, he can't take it anymore.  
"I bet you're secretly glad to get rid of us."  
"Nope!"  
"Why not? We've been a pain in your ass all summer. If I were you, I'd be rejoicing that we're finally leaving."  
"Not a bit. But I am glad that summer's over, because it means next year you'll be back for more fun activities! The whole gang will be back together and having a good time."  
"I'm not coming back to this shithole next year." Max challenges, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and glaring at the dirt. "I hate this place."  
"I'm sorry to hear that. I'll miss you."  
"Yeah, but you actually mean that." David stares at him confusedly, and it just pisses Max off even more. "I've been nothing but an asshole to you all summer. I've tried to escape eighteen times, injured you fourteen times, got you to cry at least thirty times, and you still mean it when you say you'll miss me. What the fuck's up with that? Why the hell does this camp matter so much to you, and why won't you just give up like the rest of us?"  
There's a long pause, where Max glares daggers at the ground and tries to ignore David's eyes on him.  
"Can I show you something?" He waits until Max nods begrudgingly, before pulling out his wallet, battered and worn faux-leather with a Swiss Army knife keychain attached to the broken zip, and extracting a folded photo. It's in black and white, the paper yellowed and creased, but Max can clearly see the occupants; a single lady in her fifties, glaring at the camera, and almost thirty kids, all dressed in stern uniforms and frowns. He scans it for a moment before finding David, albeit a version of him that looks about Max's age. In the photo he looks miserable, and something about it is so quintessentially wrong; he's seen David sad and uncomfortable, crying and angry, but he's never seen David look this utterly devoid of happiness before.  
It reminds him of that day in the rain, trying and trying and trying to light the bonfire without any success, and for a moment he feels distinctly disturbed.  
"The fuck is this?" He asks, clearing his throat and shaking himself out of the strange mood. Max chances a look back up at David, and finds, with no small relief, that he's smiling gently. "That was where I grew up. St. Simon's Orphanage."  
"You're an orphan?!" The words burst out before he can stop them, and Max flushes, stammering, "I mean, uh-"  
David's still smiling. "Sure am. Have been since I was a baby. Left at the orphanage with no records of who my parents were or anything."  
"Oh. I'm sorry."  
"No reason to be. I don't like thinking about those years. It was miserable, to be frank. I hated the orphanage, I cried nearly every day, and the matrons were anything but motherly. Then one day, when I was twelve," David continues, pulling another photo out of his wallet, "they told me the orphanage was getting too crowded. Shipped me off to a summer camp that just opened, called Camp Campbell." He hands the photo to Max, who stares at it. This one's just as old, but a lot more lovingly kept, the back taped up neatly with rows of scotch tape to prevent further damage. In it, David's laughing, his arms around two other children, one girl and one boy. The girl's dark-skinned, a huge grin on her face and what looks like a lizard buried in her curly hair. The boy's pale with spiky hair, one arm around David and the other making a rocker symbol, his tongue stuck out at the camera. It doesn't escape Max's notice that they're wearing Camp Camp shirts that look suspiciously like the one David ties around his neck as a bandana.  
"Who are they?" It comes out softer than he intends.  
"The girl is Anita. The boy is James. They were my best friends at Camp Campbell back when I was a camper."  
"And you all frolicked and played together like good little children?"  
"Far from it. James was a little like you, actually. He hated camp, thought it was a waste of time and was always thinking of ways to escape. He'd drag me and Anita along, try to paddle across the lake on a raft make of logs stuck together with bubblegum, call the cops on our counsellors or hike our way out of the woods and down to the city in one night." David pauses, and takes the photo from Max's unresisting grip to stare at it. "They were the first family I ever had. Camp Campbell was like paradise when I was your age, and from then on, all I ever wanted to do was become a counsellor and help someone else achieve that dream."  
Max tries to speak, but finds his throat stuck, and clears it quickly. "You must be pretty disappointed, then."  
"Not at all. You might think you're my biggest failure yet, as you've tried to tell me many, many times, but really, you're probably my greatest success." David holds up a finger to stop Max interjecting. "It doesn't matter that you hated the camp. You got to know everyone. You made friends with Neil and Nikki, and even Space Kid. You had fun with them."  
"Don't push it." Max mutters, and David just chuckles, patting him on the shoulder. "You know what I mean. I'm really proud of you, and I am going to miss you next year." He stands, and gestures for Max to do the same, before packing up his fishing equipment, slinging his bags onto his back and gripping the rod in his hand. "Go on, then. There's only one more day, anyway." He turns on his heel and walks back the way he came, David trailing along behind, whistling the stupid fucking song he wrote for Camp Campbell, and if Max's eyes are mysteriously wet, well, it's nobody's business. 

-

The next day, around one in the afternoon, his mom arrives in a flurry of motherly affection, getting out of the car and immediately rushing to hug him. "Max! How was camp?"  
He flails a little, just for show, and then hugs her back, not even minding that much when she picks him up to hug him even tighter. "It was alright."  
"Really? From the texts you sent me before your phone died, it seemed like you were ready to mass murder the entire camp. Oh, is someone crying?" Max's mom looks up to see David blowing his nose noisily into a tissue before waving Harrison goodbye as his parents cart him off. "Oh dear, your camp counsellor. Is he alright?"  
"He's fine."  
"I meant to apologise, I know you were very against the idea of going for summer camp, but with your dad working all sorts of hours in the ER and your baby sister teething, I figured you'd be a lot less bored here. It looks like you had a lot of fun, and made friends, too! But this is the last year, I promise. Is that your girlfriend waving to you?" Max turns, and sure enough, there's Nikki, whose idea of a farewell is apparently racing around the campsite and refusing to get into her dad's car, while shouting as loud as possible for as long as possible. "No, mom. We're friends."  
"How about him? Is he your boyfriend?" A few metres away from Nikki, Neil's waving at him, and he waves back. "No, mom. We're just friends."  
"That's good. You're too young for a relationship. Your sister's in the car, by the way. She screamed the whole way here, so she should be napping."  
Max hands his mom his duffel bag of clothes and slides into the backseat, leaning over to peer at the baby seat containing his sister. Contrary to his mom's predictions, her eyes are open, staring blankly out of the window, before they land on him. She smiles then, gap toothed and adorable, and reaches out with tiny hands, latching onto the index finger he offers with surprising force. Max feels something tug in his chest, and he glances out the window to where David is, mere feet away. They lock eyes, and there's something in the way he stands, a lone figure in the entrance to the campsite, one hand raised in a farewell salute, something too much like longing in his eyes.  
When his mom finally gets into the car, he blurts, "I want to come back next year."  
"You do? You hate this place."  
"It's," Max hesitates, and then tears his eyes away from David. "It's not all bad."  
It really is. Another summer spent in the uncomfortable outdoors, having to socialise and take part in stupid activities, deprived of the Internet or air conditioning or any sort of privacy for close to three weeks sounds like hell, but maybe, Max thinks, just maybe the huge smile David will get when he sees Max trudge back into Camp Campbell will make it all worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> plot twist: it's not max w the tragic backstory it's david!!!! shocking


End file.
